


I’ll live (another day)

by mulberrywidow



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Magic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Supernatural Elements, Unrequited Crush, ressurection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28425897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mulberrywidow/pseuds/mulberrywidow
Summary: Tyler, the son of a parishioner, wakes up under a frozen lake after contemplating a suicide attempt. A man with lilac colored hair saves him and brings him home.
Relationships: Josh Dun/Debby Ryan, Josh Dun/Tyler Joseph
Kudos: 6





	I’ll live (another day)

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first Joshler fic. I am open to criticism. Things will start off a bit slow. Feel free to leave comments. 
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> -mulberrywidow

Cold.

That’s how everything around Tyler felt before he opened his eyes and took a breath, brisk freshwater filling his lungs without warning.

Instinctively, he rotated his arms, swimming up to search for a pocket of air, when there was none, but only a thick barrier of ice.

He brought his fist, and banged it against the ice, pushing against the only thing holding him from breathing. It didn’t matter if he hurt his hands; he couldn’t feel them anyways. 

With a final blow, the ice crackled, and Tyler pushed himself up to the surface.

The first breath of air was painful—it was dangerously cold, and the frigid air burned his lungs. Tyler’s lips were chapped, and most of his body numb. His mind was traveling at ten thousand miles per hour, but he coughed out, and mustered up all the energy he had to scream, plea.

“Help!” He croaked the first time, his nimble fingers grasping at the edges of ice that surrounded him, but wouldn’t allow him to be steady.

In the distance, he saw a bright light wavering; was someone looking for him?

This only made him cry out in desperation. 

“HELP!” He screamed a little louder, enough to where someone had actually answered him.

“I’m coming!” Tyler heard a man holler his way. Over the constant splashing and struggle, the young man could barely sense if the man was coming his way.

The water was numbing, and Tyler felt somewhat grateful for not being able to feel the pain anymore, and was in fact, growing tired of trying to stay afloat.

He didn’t know what time it was, hell, he didn’t even know what day it was. All he knew is that he’d found himself in this situation when he figured he’d be better off hanging from his bedroom ceiling, but decided to take a walk instead. For some reason, the cold felt better, it felt easier. But now, the idea of killing himself felt like an absolute nightmare with all the times they were nothing but unsuccessful.

“Where are you?” His eyes snapped opened after growing heavy, hearing the person to his left, only a few feet away.

“Please!” Tyler screeched. “I can’t stay here.”

The man made a splash of water, and Tyler could hear him swimming toward him. “I’m coming!” He yelled, and Tyler felt a cold, wet body next to him.

He clung to the man, teeth chattering as the kind stranger began to paddle them both to the shoreline of the lake.

“Here, you go ahead,” The man said, weakly lifting Tyler up into the snow before following behind him. All Tyler could do was faceplant first into the snow, an agonising pain in his chest each time he breathed in and out.

“Hey, we need to get out of here man,” The stranger breathed out, gently shaking Tyler’s back with his gloved hands.

“I can’t,” Tyler cried out, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed some air to keep his tears from slipping. “Please, I feel like I can’t go home,” he begged, turning to the man. He could barely make out any features in the dark, but the light was close enough to reflect off of soft brown eyes, and bloody lip. Tyler hoped he hadn’t caused that somehow.

“C’mere, we’re not dying today,” the stranger, who had retrieved his flashlight, held it in his mouth and removed his beanie, revealing a bright hue of lilac hair, before putting the warm cap on Tyler’s head. Tyler gently shivered, and continued to let silent tears roll down his face.

Before Tyler could move, the stranger slowly picked him up and slung him over his shoulder. Tyler buried his face into the person's back, and watched as the footprints they left in the snow would disappear with the snow current.

For a moement, Tyler had closed his eyes, and suddenly he was at a doorstep with the man.

“Mom, please, help us,” he heard the man weakly say, before he released Tyler into an older gentleman’s arms. 

Tyler’s eyes hurt too much to distinguish the features in the dark, but he weakly looked up at them through his eyelashes, doing his best to say, “Help, please, I can’t go..home…” but instead having it come out as mumbles and indistinguishable noises.

Before he knew it, he was laid out in a big, comfortable bed. Tyler’s eyes remained shut, and he did his best to focus his ears on what the man was telling him; everything was so fuzzy, his ears could hardly see any words coming through.

“Wet” “Clothes” and “Off” sounded clear enough as to where Tyler understood he needed to get out of the clothes. Of course. He didn’t want to die of hypothermia, so it was best he followed orders.

The man left the room for a quick moment, leaving Tyler to face his confusion alone.

Tyler could hardly feel himself move, but his brain did a magnificent job of undressing himself despite his nerves feeling fried.

In the nude, Tyler laid back, and clasped a hand to his forehead. Everything seemed to be absent, even pain. Though surely and slowly, as his body adjusted to the warmth of the house, he suddenly felt it _all_.

First it was his shoulders, then his back, then his chest. He wasn’t even sure if he could move his feet or wiggle his toes. What about his hands? Would he still be able to play piano on Sundays?

Tyler was taken out of his thoughts when clothes landed by the end of the bed. He slowly propped himself up, furrowing his brows as he stared at the door.

“I didn’t want to walk in on you—-but my son said you could borrow some of his clothes,” he heard a woman softly speak from the other side of the door before it shut.

Tyler rubbed his eyes, sniffling, before his fingers gripped the soft, warm fabrics. A pair of sweatpants, briefs, and a pink band hoodie.

He smiled, before holding the hoodie to his chest, and then slipping it over his head and his torso.

Dangling his legs off the side of the bed, he got himself into the briefs, and stuffed his legs into the soft, plush sweatpants.

Sighing, he hugged himself reassuringly, slowly rubbing the sides of his arms before wincing a little.

The door opened to the middle aged man who had carried him in here earlier, who had about two thick, Queen sized blankets in his arms.

“Hoping these can help you warm up.” He said as he set them down next to Tyler. “My wife had me give you the good ones. She didn’t want you to freeze to death.”

Tyler slowly nodded, his eyes feeling grimy, and hard.

“Thank you, sir. What may I call you?”

“Bill Dun. And you?” The man asked as he picked up the wet clothes from the floor and placed them in a laundry basket.

“Tyler. Joseph.” He said, blinking at him a few times before smiling. “He saved me, your son,” he mumbled before staring down at his cold, red hands.

“Josh is a kind soul. I’m surprised he was out this late.”

Tyler nodded in response, peering around the room, before unfolding the blankets.

“Please tell him I said thank you.” Tyler was cozy in his blankets.

Bill lightly chuckled. “I will. Please get some rest, Tyler.” He said before switching the light off and closing the door.

Tyler’s fingers clung to the softness of the blankets, smelling the detergent on them and being reminded of his own home that carried a similar scent of vanilla and clean linen.

As Tyler let out a yawn and lightly shivered, he couldn’t help but stare at the dark wall next to him, lips parted.

“Josh,” he mumbled. “What a pretty name.”


End file.
